


Little Talks

by kenporusty



Series: Personal Assistant [2]
Category: The Hobbit (2012) RPF
Genre: A little backstory, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dean is really bad at Angry Birds, I based some of this on my own experience, I can only get away with so much though, I'm American with friends in the UK, I'm winging it, M/M, TW: talk about divorce, abuse of the British culture, fictional daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 21:55:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenporusty/pseuds/kenporusty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean goes down to London to learn a little more about Graham's past.</p><p>Special bonus: Dean hears some words that floor him.</p><p>If you haven't read <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/742518/chapters/1382939">Personal Assistant</a>, I suggest you read that before reading this, otherwise things won't make sense.</p><p>Teen and up for some PG13 level words.</p><p>EDIT: So there was a scene I deleted because it took the rest of the story in a direction I didn't want to go. It can be read <a href="http://kenporusty.tumblr.com/post/48773721614/fidelity-a-deleted-scene-in-my-ao3-story-little">at my Tumblr. I was debating putting it here, but decided against it.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Talks

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know anything about Graham's actual family. All of this is a work of fiction.  
> However, I did weave some of my experiences into this (see end note).
> 
> I almost cried when I wrote this. Hopefully you'll fare a little better.
> 
> This isn't the last time we're going to see Liz. I have one more big reveal about her character before I can (hopefully) put her on the shelf.

Dean’s phone buzzed.

“Biology.” A text from Liz about three weeks after the dinner with Graham.

“What?”

“You asked me my major, which is biology.”

“Very nice.”

“Come to London this weekend, I’m sure my da won’t miss you.”

Dean bit his lip, “let me talk to him, yeah? I don’t know what he might have planned.”

Silence. Silence for the rest of the day, and well into the day after.

“Sure. Take the train down, and call me when you get in.”

Dean checked his time - plenty - and stepped out to call Graham.

“Hey, so did you have anything planned this weekend?” Dean asked after Graham picked up.

Crunching. Caught him on his lunch break.

“No, not really. Maybe a movie night. Why?”

“Liz wants me to come to London, think she needs to talk to me about something. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to surprise me with anything.”

“What like dropping to one knee and asking you to marry me? Naah,” Graham started laughing.

He laughed harder at Dean’s silence.

“It was a joke, Dean, breathe.”

“Right, yeah, well I guess I’ll tell her. Get back to your lunch, Graham. See you tonight?”

Graham laughed easily, “Yes, I will see you tonight. Get back to work, Dean.”

“Ta,” Dean hung up the phone, a few words still lingering on his tongue. He felt like an idiot, but quickly hurried back inside.

“If the invite is still open, I’ll see you on Saturday, okay? I’ll take the morning train out.” Dean sent off the message before going back into the office.

*****

Saturday dawned with rain, and as Dean left, pack over his shoulder, he saw Graham’s car at the curb.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked when he opened the door.

“You think I would let my partner run off to my daughter’s without a chance to say goodbye?” Graham grinned.

Dean slid into the passenger seat, heart thundering.

“Partner?” he squeaked.

“You take offence to that title?” Graham asked with a raised eyebrow.

“N,” Dean’s throat stuck, he cleared his throat. “No, I, just. We never talked about using that term.”

“It’s been a month and a half, I think it’s time to classify this as more than just desperate make-outs on the couch and half-eaten dinners left while we fuck, don’t you?”

Dean felt butterflies in his stomach as he clicked the belt into place and Graham pulled out into traffic.

“Well, I guess so. I mean, that would be nice.”

“And I don’t know about you, but I’m too old for words like ‘boyfriend,’ so I prefer ‘partner.’” Graham took Dean’s hand and kissed it. Dean couldn’t help but grin widely.

In a short amount of time, Graham pulled into the short-term parking at Edinburgh station.

“Now, you have fun in London. Get Liz to show you around, don’t let her sit around and smoke pot all day,” Graham laughed.

He caught Dean’s glance and saw nothing but affection, trust, passion, want.

And love.

“I love you,” Graham said softly before leaning in to kiss him.

Dean’s heart stuttered and bounced around his chest like a caged bird. His stomach knotted. Graham’s lips were soft, moving sweetly in time with Dean’s lips. Nothing mattered. The sound outside faded, the radio disappeared. It was just him and Graham.

And three words Dean never thought he would hear.

When they broke and leaned together, forehead to forehead, Dean whispered.

“I love you too.”

They kissed again, soft and sweet. Graham cupped Dean’s face when they broke, his thumb stroking Dean’s cheekbone. They both grinned at the other, almost threatening a happy laughter.

Dean wanted to text Liz and tell her he wasn’t coming. He wanted Graham to turn around and take him home. He wanted to cement those words into their relationship in every room of that big, empty house.

“Get going or you’ll miss your train,” Graham said, pushing Dean softly back towards his seat.

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Dean whined.

Graham turned a look on Dean, “I wouldn’t ditch my daughter. You think she was pretty Jotunn during dinner, just you wait until someone leaves her high and dry.”

Dean reluctantly unbuckled his belt and scooped up his bag. He leaned in for another lingering kiss.

“Thanks for the ride. I love you. I’ll call you when I get into London.” He couldn’t help but grin as his heart fluttered.

“I love you too,” Graham said. “Safe travels.”

“Ta!” Dean shut the door and hurried through the parking lot to the station, pulling his ticket out of his pocket.

A little over four hours later Dean thumbed to a new message on his phone.

“St. Pancras station,” he sent off to Liz.

“Hang on, I’m in Holborn, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Liz sent back.

Dean shrugged, and left the platform. He bought a sandwich from one of the vendors, found a spot to sit, and tried for the fifteenth time to beat a level of Angry Birds.

“I’m here.” Dean’s phone buzzed with Liz’s text. He stood and stretched, looking around until he found a much less tanned girl with dirty blonde hair streaked with purple. Instead of being gathered in the messy bun, it was teased up, falling in ringlets around her face. Dean was quite envious of the hair.

“Liz, good to see you!” He said as they embraced. “How have you been?”

She smelled of cigarettes. “I’ve been alright. Come on, we’ve got the house to ourselves today, my mam is at auditions all day.”

“Auditions? She’s an actress?” Dean followed Liz through the foot tunnels to the Piccadilly line.

“Yeah, she just got done a show, so now she’s auditioning for some Shakespeare plays, and I think for a couple bit parts for the BBC.”

Dean whistled, “I wish her the best of luck.”

“Yeah, so do I,” Liz went through the turn style for the Underground, and passed her Oyster card back to Dean to use. He tapped the blue card on the mat and handed it back to her once he was through.

“Just one stop and then we’re a few blocks off.” Liz seemed distant.

“Listen, I’m really sorry about how I treated you during dinner.” Liz said once they boarded the car and it pulled away.

Dean smiled easily, “it’s no problem.”

“No, it’s not. I was being a complete bitch, and I really had no right to act that way, but I’m sure you can see where I was coming from, though, right? I mean you come home from a mental health vacation where the only contact your father has is to send some overpriced floral arrangement with a half-hearted note attached, only to be told his former personal assistant is coming to dinner. I had just gotten in that morning. I really wanted to stay in London, but he insisted I take the next flight to Edinburgh.

“And then you show up at the door. I wasn’t expecting someone so,” she gestured vaguely at Dean.

“You just gestured to all of me.” Dean said dryly, quoting a guilty pleasure movie of his.

Liz smiled, “Someone like you. I thought I was going to drop dead. I tried to be happy for you two, I really did, but I don’t want you getting hurt like my mam did.”

She stepped off at Holborn station, and led Dean up the narrow stairs and into the organized chaos that was London. They walked the blocks in near silence, Liz allowing Dean to rubberneck at such a wonderfully old city like London. Auckland was relatively new, it didn’t have the centuries London had to build up, and the city didn’t feel the same. Edinburgh had an entirely different history than London and even those two cities felt very different. Dean felt at home, finally, in Edinburgh, but in London, he felt like he stuck out with his skinny jeans, bright plaid shirt, and a scarf wrapped loosely around his neck.

Liz unlocked a door and wound her way up a narrow stairwell to a third floor apartment.

“Tea?” She asked.

Dean kicked his shoes off and set his bag down next to them.

“Sounds good, no sugar, just milk, please.” Dean said.

The apartment was small but comfortable, two bedrooms and a large sitting room. A television in the corner, two laptops perched on a plain desk, a breakfast nook with another table. Liz flicked on the kettle and pulled two mugs from a shelf. Dean didn’t know what he was expecting, but the apartment felt lived in and cozy.

“Make yourself at home, yeah?” Liz said from the kitchen.

“Can I help you with anything?”

The stark contrast with Graham’s huge, empty, sterile home was bothering Dean.

“No, I’ve got it.”

Liz came back carrying a tray with two mugs of tea, a small cup of milk and a plate of biscuits. She set it down on the small coffee table by the sofa, and perched on one end of the sofa. Dean sat on the opposite end, folding his legs under him.

“So I asked you down here because I wanted to talk to you, and I couldn’t do it around my da.” She said softly, taking a mug of tea. Dean took the other and poured milk into it, stirring with a small spoon.

She stroked the mug with her long fingers, “Da mentioned the divorce, and it’s still bothering me to this day. I was twenty-one when it was finalized. They didn’t even tell me. I found the notarized letter on mam’s dresser. Yeah, they were separated for a while, probably since I was in year 11. That was no big deal. Mam focused on her acting. I didn’t hear her cry too much anymore, and they didn’t fight anymore.

“But I was at University in America, and they didn’t even bother telling me. I came home from America and mam had moved here, to London, to this tiny little flat, and da kept his big house in Edinburgh, and I thought how unfair that was. It bothered me a lot. Mam should have gotten more out of the divorce. Enough for a proper house, even if we didn’t live in London.”

Dean stayed silent and let her talk. Clearly, this is what she had needed for a while.

“They never fought in front of me when I was little. I sometimes heard raised voices. Mam claimed da didn’t really support her acting. Da said he did everything he could, and he was sort of right. He made it to as many of her productions as possible, he helped her learn her lines and perfect her presence, but a lot of times he just wasn’t there. I guess his career didn’t help. He didn’t get to where he is now until I was in year 5. Everything changed then. We suddenly had money. We vacationed in Indonesia and the Philippines instead of the Lake Country or the Highlands. We suddenly had nice cars and nice clothes. We moved into that house.

“I think mam resented it. Or resented him. He was so successful, he spent so much time at the office, and she was just…her. She acted in local theatres, though she did audition for television and movie parts. She auditioned to be one of the Doctor’s companions, but they turned her down!”

She sniffed and choked back a sob. She set down her mug. Dean scooted over to wrap his arm around her shoulders and squeezed, rubbing her upper arms soothingly.

“And when I went to University, da insisted on me going to a big school in America. He claimed it would help me out in life. He already accepted I wanted to study biology, that I wasn’t going into business like he was. That I wasn’t naturally gifted with acting or music like mam. I think he wanted me to go away so they could finalize things without me around. I didn’t have to hear ‘we’re staying together for her’ at night. I didn’t wake up to see mam sleeping in the guest bed while I was away at University. I liked it, it was an escape, it was certainly an experience, but it wasn’t right for me.

“I dropped out after I found the letter. I never confronted either of them. They’re both proud that I’m going back in the fall, but staying locally. He’s going to help me out, but I can’t help but still be sad about things, you know?” She looked at him with tears rolling from eyes that reminded Dean so much of Graham’s that his heart seized.

“I understand,” he said softly, tightening his grip.

She sniffed and leaned in, pressing her lips to his. He froze, no responding, not entirely sure what to do. She was her partner’s daughter, for fuck’s sake. Even if he liked women, he wouldn’t move in on her. She broke from him with a little self-depreciating laugh.

“Sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” she apologized, immediately looking away.

“I think you can understand why I can’t kiss you back, but if you need some good platonic comfort, I’m here. I’m pretty sure Graham won’t kill me for that,” Dean said quietly into her hair as he hugged her slim shoulders.

“He also told me to get you out of the apartment so you don’t just sit around smoking pot all day.”

She laughed, actually laughed, “I do not sit around and get high all day. That was just the one weekend I thought they were going to be gone. And I wasn’t smoking weed, Ben was.”

“Ben?”

Liz waved him off, “another New Zealander. Surfer guy. I have no idea where he might be now. We were friends and a little more for a while before he moved on to God knows where.”

“Do you feel better now that you’ve gotten that out to the world?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” Liz sniffed, “I do. That’s one big thing out to the universe. Now, we should go somewhere fun. Where do you want to go?”

“You live in London, I’m just a tourist, you tell me. I will say that I am a huge fan of zoos, just wish I had my good camera with me, but that’s back in New Zealand for safe keeping.”

Liz grinned.

*****

Dean sent Graham a text message when he boarded his train back to Edinburgh Sunday night.

“I miss you so much.”

“Come home soon so I can fuck you,” was the response.

Dean grinned.

“I’ll be home in four hours. Tell you about my trip as pillow talk?”

“You know I love our weird pillow talk. Love you.”

Dean’s heart still fluttered like a nervous bird.

“Love you, too. Time to try and FINALLY beat this stupid game.”

**Author's Note:**

> My parents never told me when their divorce was finalized. I found the note on my dad's dresser. Like Graham and the yet unnamed ex-wife, my parents also stayed together until I was in high school before my mom left. Things were painfully obvious what was going on. At least Graham wasn't a womanizer like my dad...
> 
> This fictional Dean is about as bad as I am with Angry Birds. I actually just uninstalled the game I got frustrated so much.


End file.
